A/N: Welcome to Chapter Sixteen! W00t! My heart goes out to all those affected and effected by Katrina. Goddess Bless to all. This I think is one of my longest chapters...enjoy! cheers all and remember to review, it's good for karma.

MB

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim ownership of any of Jo's wonderful characters...

Light

by

mingingbent

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– James Thurber

Chapter Sixteen: Trying to Reason

And now I must confess, I could use some rest.

I can't run at this pace very long.

Yes, it's quite insane, I think it hurts my brain.

But it cleans me out and then I can go on.

- Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season, Jimmy Buffet

Aimee made her way into St. Mungo's and quickly found 413, it was in a remote corner of the hospital. Remus was up reading.

"Hey you." She said taking a seat next to the bed.

"Hey yourself." He looked up and put his book down.

"Sorry bout earlier Remus. I was planning on telling her. I just wanted to wait."

"I discerned as much – I sent her home."

"Good, at least she listens to you."

Remus cracked a smile, "Sometimes."

"Well sometimes is more than never."

"So," she looked up, "figure out who it was."

He ran a hand nervously through his greying hair.

"I haven't told any one else yet but the last thing I remember is Nymph asking for a cup of tea."

"But Tonks was at the Ministry..." Aimee blinked, "She couldn't have been two places at once."

Could she?

"That's why I didn't tell anyone else, because that's what I remember."

Oh gods, it must have been, Aimee rationed, but it doesn't make any sense.

"I doesn't make any sense."

"I know, but that's what I remember, maybe-"

She cut him off, "Well you are okay, that's all that matters now."

"Tonks, you in there?"

Aimee knocked on the door to the 2nd floor bathroom. She could hear the tell-tale signs of crying.

Through the sobs and sniffles she thought she heard a 'yes'. Entering she found Tonks crumpled on the tile floor, sobbing into a hankerchief.

"Oh, come here sweatheart." She pulled the hankerchief away and discarded it in the hamper.

"Accio Klennex."

"Here ya go dear," she pulled out a few and held them out for her. "Now blow."

Kneeling down next to her, she noticed that the pink hair was gone as was the blue eyes from earlier. They were replaced by straight, long, black hair and sharp grey eyes filled now with tears. Her skin was paler and frame smaller. Aimee was getting her first glance at Nymphadora Tonks' true form.

"What's wrong?"

She rubbed circles into Tonks' back.

Through the cries she heard - "Remus, hurt, my fault, and useless."

"Hon," Aimee said lightly, "Never use more than two deprecating statements in one sentance. It's unbecoming of a woman."

That got her a slight laugh.

"Now let's get you cleaned up."

Aimee got Tonks off her knees and turned on the faucet.

"Close. Good." She dunked the young witch's head under the running water.

"Now breath." After she had pulled her out she offered her a clean towel.

"Good, now follow me."

Aimee handed Tonks a cup of hot chocolate, with three mini-marshmellows floating in its depths.

"Thanks." Tonks mummbled before taking a sip, she was back to normal – pink hair and all.

"Ah...Hot Chocolate – a woman's best friend. What was all that blubbering about?"

"Remus."

"I gthered that. I have despaired over men before, I know the symtoms."

"I...uh...after what happened...I feel responsible." Tonks cast her eyes down towards her mug.

"Why should you?"

"I said I would come home early. He must have openned the door thinking it was me."

"Oh don't despair dear. Remus isn't as breakable as he seems and it was hardly your fault." Aimee patted Tonks' knee before sitting down with her own cup of Hot Chocolate.

"It certainly wasn't becase of you."

Tonks teary-eyed, brightened at that.

Deep down in some dark cavern deep in the Welsh Countryside three dark robed figures gathered. Quickly under the cover of a speckled night's sky they trespassed towards a small, delapidated cottage.

It was a poor, neglected thing. Slightly leaning to the left, moss and ivy had invaded and the shingle roof was failing apart. The door had a few path holes in it. There was no lights on in the cottage, but it set a strange glow around it.

The three travelers approached the dwelling and the first of the three reached out a slender, gloved hand and knocked twice. After a matter of minutes they were admitted inside.

The inside had not faired any better than the outside. What furniture there was had been shattered and the stingy, grimy, green looking wall paper was peeling. There was a large, wooden china cabnet on the far wall, it was broken the glass jagged where it had been smashed. The draws were missing handles. All in all it was a very desolate place.

The elderly, looming man that had let in the three travlers gestured for them to sit on the fleabitten, motheaten remnant of a couch. They declined, but pulled back their cloak hoods revealing their faces. The taller of the three had short, expertly clipped brown hair ad a neatly kempt mustache that resembled a hary worm above his upper lip. The second of the two had long, straght black hair that almost reached his shoulder, brought back in a short ponytail, on his face he wore the tell-tale sneer of wellbeing. The third, the shortest and oldest of the three was stalkier built, not like his two waif companions. He was shaggy, with a long scraggly mane of hair and sharp, dangerous eyes. He looked very content with himself.

The pale, dark wizard was the first to speak, "And the boy?"

The eldery man nodded, "Yes gentelmen-sirs he is awaiting for his next task. Should I go get him?"

"No." the man said sharply, "Not yet."

"Now Rosier." The first man exclaimed impatiently, he was most uncomfortable in these surroundings and figeted with his cane.

His dark haired companion-Rosier- sent him a glance. He then turned to the other.

"The potion if you please."

The shaggy wizard dug into his robes and produced a purplish, brown vial. He handed it over with a smile.

"You understand Mr. Hollingsworth that we are no longer in need of your services." The wizard took out his wand. "Avada Kedavra."

The man was dead befoe he hit the ground – wide-eyed, fear imprinted on his face.

After the deed was done, he turned to his fellow travelers.

"Well sirs, I will go see to the boy. If you don't mind, could you two move the body over there."

He pointed to a spot next to what appeared to be a trap door.

"Rosier-you don't mean- I refuse to get my hands dirty." The tall, broad wizard disdained.

"Has Azakaban made you soft Rabastan?"

The wizard, Rabastan, scowled.

Rosier pointed his wand at the trap door, muttered something and it opened to reveal steps that led into a dark tunnel. Ducking due to his height, he descended into the darkness, the last thing he heard from above was the annoyed, impatient huff of his fellow wizard.

"Lumos."

It was a wet, stone tunnel, covered with various greenery and moss. The wizard had to slightly bow his head, to keep from hitting it on the ceiling. He continued down the turnnel until he came to an intersection, he went left. Water dripped against the damp stone creating a cacaphony with the clip of the wizard's boots. Finally he came to the end of the tunnel. There was a heavy, wooden door with a large brass lock.

"Alohamora." The door swung open.

The wizard stepped inside and his eyes adjusted to the deep, wet darkness. He pointed his wand to the corner. Something shied in the light and scuttled away. At first glance it seemed to be a creature of some sort. The wizard reached up to a latern and magically lit it, bathing the small room in an umber glow.

The creature was in fact a boy, naked, no more than fourteen. He curled up on himself against the brillance of the light.

The wizard stepped towards the boy and he shied again. The wizard not fazed by this reached out a gloved hand to touch the boy. The boy strained to get further away but was impeeded by the large, metal collar that was dark against his place, sickly skin. It was secured around his slender neck and their was a large chain that connected it to the wall.

"Boy." The wizard sounded.

At that the boy stopped his figeting and fell to touch the edge of the wizard's robes in submission.

The wizard's hand fell upon the boy's head and he toussled the obsidian strands.

He heard the boy sigh against the trim of his robes and then a muffled, "Master."

"Would you like to go on another vacation my boy?"

The boy glanced up hopefully and nodded fervently.

"Good."

The wizard waved his wand and the chain was gone. Reaching into his robes he produced the vial.

"Drink this."

The boy lifted his head and like a dog opened his mouth and lapped as the potion was poured down his throat.

"God boy." The wizard patted the boy's head once more, the vial disapeering within the folds of his cloak, and motioned for the boy to follow.

Once the wizard came out of the tunnel he found his two fellows standing by the door, one was lounging, the other impatiently tapping his foot. The body of the old man had been moved. He climed out and the boy followed.

Seeing the boy, his shaggy companion, smiled his sharp canine's glowing.

In the dead of the night, near the small Welsh town of Wrexham the sounds of terror and death swept across the land.

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cheers MB